Crack'd
by sunflowerb
Summary: A collection of those pairings that have Disney rolling in his grave and Nomura feeling sick to his stomach. All het. Ranging from the almost normal to totally cracktastic. 8.Boredom: CidxLarxene: Everyone is allowed one monumental act of stupidity.
1. Exotic

**AN: **I always come up with the best ideas at 2:00 in the morning.

This here is a collection of drabbles and oneshots featuring various het. crack pairings. No slash. I'm thinking of going up to thirteen, since that seems a good stopping point. I've got a few pairings planned, but I'm up for suggestions. They will range from not-so-out-there pairings like SoraOlette and DemyxNamine, to really cracktastic pairings like Luxord x Queen of Hearts. Yes, that one is actually next. Walt Disney and Lewis Carroll are rolling in their graves, and Nomura is probably finding it hard to sleep at night.

Anyway, I digress, let the insanity comence.

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**C.R.A.C.K.'.d**

_One_

**&-E****X****O****T****i****C-&**

_&-Sorette-&_

Admittedly, she'd always held a bit of a _something _for Hayner.

Then _he _showed up. Perhaps it wasn't so much that he was attractive in his own right so much as it was the allure of someone from another world. The local boys were great and all, but there was just something so fascinating and _exotic _about a foreign guy.

He had a _tan_. _No one _in Twilight Town had a real tan-unless they ever managed to go to the beach. But even so, no one had a tan like that-one that came from years of running around under a midday sun. The simple fact that he had a tan set him so far apart from all the other guys she'd ever met that she couldn't help but be interested.

He was different…unique. He was from a different place, a different life. It was…exciting.

Then there was his smile…she wasn't used to people smiling at her like that. It unnerved her…but in a good way.

Olette couldn't help but feel a little silly about the whole thing. How embarrassing; a sensible girl like herself falling prey to such a cliché female trait-crushing on a foreign guy.

Because, seriously, what girl hasn't fallen for a foreign boy?

Exactly.

But then Sora smiles at her in that wonderful, exotic way, and Olette decides that maybe she's okay with that.

&-end-&

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AN: I'm doing this for my own enjoyment, if nothing else. Reviews are appreciated nonetheless.

This is me, owning nothing but the insanity from which this sprung. Although I reiterate, it was 2:00 am when the idea struck me.


	2. Chance

**AN: It was _so_ much fun to write this one. I nearly laughed myself into a coma when I thought of the pairing, and a way to actually write it. I love this one. It's so beyond ridiculous. Anywho, enjoy.**

**By the way, I'm still taking suggestions. I'm currently planning to do 13, but if I think of more pairings I'll extend it. Currently I have planned (as in, I have an idea where I'm going with it) :**

**3. Sarcasm-RikuMegara**

**4.Harbor-DemyxNamine**

**5.Jaunty-SoraFuu**

**6.Sandman-DemyxKairi**

**7.Charade-SoraNamine**

**8.Untitled-Davy Jones x Ursala (I have no fricken' _clue _where that one came from)**

**If you suggest a pairing, I promise to use it provided I can figure out how. For example, whoever if was who suggested (I'm sorry I can't remember your name at the moment) Barbossa x Clarabell Cow, I LOVE that suggestion, but I'm currently at a loss as to howto even _begin _writing it. **

**Disclaimer: Walt Disney and Lewis Carrol are currently rolling in their graves, and Tetsuya Nomura would be rolling in his grave if he was dead.**

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**C.R.A.C.K.'.d**

_Two_

**./' **_C__hanc__e_** ./'**

**./' **_luxord X queen of hearts ._**/'**

Luxord knows that the chances of finding everything in a mate were incredibly slim. He therefore deduced that the wisest bet was to simply find a woman with as many of the desired qualities as possible, and accept that the lack of whatever qualities she did not possess was simply a sacrifice in exchange for all the good things.

So if she had all the qualities he really would have wanted in a wife, but lacked the looks of a beauty pageant queen or a playboy bunny, he supposed he could live with that. After all, beauty would fade, wit would only get sharper.

At least, this is whatever he will say when he wants to justify what happened with _her._

Hey, she had a fetish for cards. He thought it was a good find.

It was a chance meeting in a world where things didn't have to make sense, and it may not have worked anywhere else. It irritated him at first, that logic was a subjective thing in this world. He'd been wanting a challenge; his companions in the Organization hadn't the wit he possessed, and he wanted to mentally butt-whoop someone who had actually given him a run for his money beforehand.

A trial where the judge was a woman who wouldn't listen to reason hadn't been what he had in mind. Exactly what he was being accused of, he really wasn't certain. What _was_ certain was that "Guilty until proven so" seemed to be the mindset of the justice system.

It was a challenge like he had never faced. The Queen simply refuted all of his logic as ridiculous, and replied with illogic stated as fact. It was all quite preposterous, and Luxord hadn't the slightest clue what to do. One can't argue logic against nonsense.

But then, he discovered, nonsense was a tactical mind game by itself. One's opponent cannot defeat one with logic if one turns their logic into nonsense and one's own nonsense into logic. Turn the woman's game upon herself! That was the key to success!

Once Luxord finished presenting his case not a soul in the room knew how to argue with him. The Queen had no choice. Of course, it helped that he gave her an offer of service-a lawyer on her side to squeeze confessions out of everyone she put on trial. The prospect of getting to behead so many more innocents made her positively glow with excitement.

She was almost pretty when she was that excited.

Somewhere along the way, all the shouts of "Off with his head!" stopped being so annoying and irritating, and started being sort of enjoyable.

He knew she found his company to be pleasant, and he had to admit to himself that she wasn't really so bad sometimes. She _could _be rather agreeable when she wanted to be-she simply very rarely wanted to be. She really wasn't so horrid looking, he decided. There was something rather comely about her when she wasn't scowling, or sentencing some poor innocent soul to decapitation.

They were walking in her garden one day following an execution, so of course she was in great spirits. She paused, and turned, smiling to him and taking his hands in hers. "I'm _so _glad that you came here! All of these executions you've insured! I do hate to think that you will have to leave one day. Are you sure," she batted her eyelashes, the effect slightly more sinister than she intended, "that you can't be persuaded to stay?"

Luxord merely smirked and brought one of her hands up to his lips, kissing it as his narrow green eyes kept a steady gaze on her face. She chuckled and withdrew her hand. "Now, now."

"Your majesty," he began, still smirking steadily, "I may stay longer…given I may have found a good reason to extend my stay…"

The Queen chuckled again, blushing. "What a nonsensical proposition…It can't end well." She told him, trying not to smile.

Luxord smiled wider. "I'll admit, chances are not ideal." His Cheshire Cat grin grew even more as he caught her eye. "But, my dear, I _do _love to gamble."

**./' **_end ._**/'**

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AN: Short, yes, but hey; I wrote it. Reviews are always appreciated. And I promise to try and reply to you. I can't promise I will, because I'm very busy, but I will certainly try.


	3. Sarcasm

**AN: **I apologize for the delay, for I have been EXTREMELY busy, and school comes first, y'know. I also apologize for how short this one is. Maybe on the Senior Retreat this Sunday-Tuesday (2 and half days in nature, to which I am alllergic; definetely NOT looking forward to that) while I am holed up in whatever moldy cabin they stick me in, adamently remaining an anti-social hermit, I can do some more writing. Thanks to all of my wonderful reviewers, with all of your very colorful suggestions. I've decided I'm just going to _have _to extend this past thirteen, because the suggestions I received were so wonderful, and I have ideas for how to do a lot of them. Also, I should announce, I think I have just figured out a way to write Barbossa x Clarabell Cow. No kidding. It is insane, and unbelievable, but I seriously think I just thought of something.

**Disclaimer: Well now, if I owned it, these wouldn't be crack pairings, now would they?**

**C.R.A.C.K.'.d**

_Three_

sARCASm

rIKu **X **mEGARa

Riku cast a doubtful glance around the underworld. "Well, this place looks cheerful."

"No offense, but you don't exactly look like a ray of sunshine either." Riku spun around to see a woman (with very curvy hips) leaning up against a stalactite (or was it a stalagmite? Which one was it that stuck out of the ground? Riku could never keep it straight.) and giving him an amused smirk.

"So the black coat's a little emo. They didn't have a mini-skirt toga in my size." The woman chuckled and took a step towards him.

"Well, aren't you just a spring of amiability." She told him, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Riku shrugged. "Well, I'm still talking to you, aren't I?"

She raised her eyebrows in amusement. "Touché. I'm Megara. But I prefer Meg."

"Riku. So Meg, huh? A name with spunk. Fitting, I'd say."

Meg gave a half-chuckle of amused approval. She came closer, but continued past him, sweeping a lean finger along his jaw line as she passed. "You're not half bad. I like your style. Gimme a holler sometime, kay?" Riku quirked an eyebrow.

Meg waved before continuing nonchalantly on her way down some dark tunnel of the underworld.

Riku smirked. Maybe this world wasn't so bad after all.

eNd

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AN: It's kinda surreal to write a charecter named Meg when your name is Megan. I never go by Meg, though, so NEVER call me that. Oh, gosh, I have got to go write that BarbossaClarabell Cow now before the idea leaves me forever!!

Thanks for reading!! (Reviews and suggestions, as well as constructive criticism are always appreciated)

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	4. Loser

**A/N:**Thought I'd update again since the last one was so short, and since I just couldn't wait to share this one with the world. I thought about saving it for the very last chapter, as sort of a grande finale of insanity, but it would have been cruel to keep you all waiting that long for this piece of brain-breaking nonsense. This one was suggested by **kikofreako**, who rocks to Pluto and back for this awesome suggestion. I still can't believe I actually figured out how to write it.

This one is total insanity, just so everyone knows. Also, this is supposed to be taking place (in terms of the PoTC timeline) inbetween Barbossa and his crew finding the cursed gold at Isla de Muerta, and the point at which they realise just what the gold has done to them.

**Disclaimer: I apologize profusely to Walt Disney, Jerry Bruckheimer, Geoffrey Rush, and anyone else affiliated with PoTC, for what I have done to their charecters.**

**C.R.A.C.K.'d**

_Four_

**L **O _S _**e **_R_

**B**a_r_**B**_o__**s**_**s**a _**X**_ **C**l_a_**r**_A_**b**_e_l**l**_**E**_ **C**_o_w

_For Akiko (kikofreako)_

Well, this sucked.

But honestly, what pirate in his right mind would have passed up an opportunity to pillage another _world. _The freaky door appeared, and they still had medallions to spend, so hey; why not?

Stupid, lying, green-skinned, horn-haired witch lady. Barbossa made a mental note to slit her throat when they got back to their own world.

This was, by far, the strangest experience he'd ever had-this coming from the mouth of an un-dead pirate who had served under Jack Sparrow. Everything here was in black and white, and simplified, like in the political caricatures in the European newspapers.

Despite its oddities, it was still a world ripe for the pillaging, so Barbossa set his men free to roam and plunder as they wished. He rather liked the idea of finding some "pleasurable company" in this strange, monochromatic world. What woman wouldn't be impressed by a pirate with a ship who could whisk her away to a world with more colors than her own?

This, he supposed, would probably be true if there were actually any women present on this world.

Of the human variety, that is.

Everyone, with the exception of his stick-figure like crew, was an animal.

Including, tragically, the females.

But a pirate such as Barbossa can only go so long on a ship with numerous other males before he needs a companion with estrogen. The animal-people were close enough, he figured. The first female (they were animals, and therefore it felt too odd to call them women) he happened upon was a rather emaciated cow who Barbossa at first took to be some form of a mammalian prostitute. Her skirt, after all, was scandalously short (all from her ankles to her calves-no pun intended-was showing!) and she was sporting a cow-bell in place of a shirt!

After speaking with the bovine for a short time, it became clear that the rules of modesty were different in this world.

Still, the cowgirl was fairly beautiful, as far as cows go, and Barbossa was getting increasingly desperate, so he decided that she'd do.

It beat the opera-singing hen, by any rate.

He hadn't gotten much farther than introducing himself, because Clarabelle Cow, as she had told him her name was, seemed to rather enjoy prattling on about this world and how sure she was that he would enjoy his stay here. Just as it seemed an opening in the conversation was approaching in which Barbossa could begin to woo this cowwoman, they were joined at the little picnic table in the middle of Clarabelle's meadow by a horse.

"Horace!" Clarabelle shouted joyously as he approached. "Oh, it's _so _delightful to see you! Do join us! This," she indicated Barbossa, "is Hector Barbossa."

"_Captain _Barbossa, if ya' please, madam," Barbossa replied, hiding his irritation behind a dashing smile.

The horse grinned at him. "Well, how do ya' do? Name's Horace."

Clarabelle giggled. "Isn't that funny? Your name is Horace and yours is Hector; they both start with an 'H'!" She giggled again and Horace chuckled along with her. Barbossa didn't see anything particularly funny about it, but he was trying to woo a cow here, so he forced a laugh anyway.

As the farm animals took their seats at the table, Clarabelle smiled at Barbossa and asked, "So, Captain Barbossa, tell us a little about yourself."

Barbossa decided that it probably was _not _the most prudent thing to do to inform these goody-goodies that he was a blood-thirsty pirate. "I'm a merchant, of sorts. I sail the seven seas to plund-ah-_procure _goods for sale, on my ostentatious _ship. _Have you ever been on a ship, Miss Clarabelle?"

Clarabelle's eyes grew large. "Oooh. Is it a large ship?"

Before Barbossa could answer, Horace broke in. "Well, there's always the Steamboat Willie. We ought to go take a ride on it one day, Clarabelle. That's always fun."

And there was something about the way he said "We" that just rubbed Barbossa wrong. It was as if the horse was only including himself and Clarabelle in that pronoun; like he was suggesting that the two of them take a ride on the Steamboat (whatever that was; Barbossa had never heard of such a contraption) together. Up until now, it should be noted, Barbossa had not been too concerned with whether or not he managed to woo Clarabelle. After all, she was a cow, so if it didn't work out he could always shrug it off and set sail for Tortuga. But now; now that that horse was doing a better job of getting the cow's attention than he was, Barbossa began to feel that he _must _woo Clarabelle, if for no other reason than to preserve his pride.

He was _not _going to be shown up by a horse.

"Aye, but is this 'Steamboat Willie' in color?"

The farm animals blinked dumbly at him.

"Color?" Clarabelle asked, clearly curious. "Do you mean like the odd lights emitted by the Cornerstone of Light?"

Cornerstone of Light; wasn't that the big glass ball he'd seen when he first entered this world?

"Ah…a' course! Except," he leaned closer to her and lowered his voice for dramatic effect, "this ship of mine, as well as the whole world I come from, is in even _more _colors than the ones that Cornerstone of yours gives off."

Clarabelle's already large eyes grew even larger. "Really? Oh, Captain Barbossa, could we see this ship of yours?"

Horace looked excited as well, although there was still a slight air of annoyance about him over losing Clarabelle's attention to Barbossa. "Yeah, Mister Barbossa, can we?"

Barbossa leaned back in his seat and feigned concerned contemplation. "Well, I suppose I could give a ride on me ship, but I'm afraid that I've only room enough for passage for one person." He smiled. "Passage ought to go to the lady, wouldn't you agree, Master Horsecollar?"

Clarabelle squealed in excitement, but Horace eyed Barbossa suspiciously. "You just be careful, Clarabelle." He warned her. "Ships can be dangerous." He then rose and left, still with an air of disappointment.

Hah. No horse could out-woo Captain Barbossa!

…

"Now, I must warn ye, Miss Clarabelle," Barbossa admonished as they stood before the door back to the Black Pearl, "The world into which you are about to step is quite different than the one you are used to. It could be a bit of a shock, at first."

Clarabelle nodded, still grinning. "Oh, I'm ready to see this world of yours, Captain Barbossa!"

The pirate smiled back at her before opening the door. "Ladies first." She stepped through and he followed her in.

Barbossa smiled at the colors that greeted him. It was so wonderful to be back! "So how do ye like my world, Miss-" He turned to look at her-and froze.

Barbossa had been expecting that Clarabelle's appearance would change when she entered this world; it only made sense considering that he had changed when entering hers. However, the change that did occur was not what he had been anticipating.

Clarabelle was a cow. As in, the way a cow was supposed to look in the real world. The only difference was that she was wearing a pink skirt.

It was quite disturbing, really.

She was still prattling on, too. Her high, excited voice was still resonating from the mouth of the realistic bovine standing on four legs on the deck of the Black Pearl.

Barbossa wordlessly opened the door that led back to Timeless River (Clarabelle had informed him of the world's title) and roughly shoved a now-indignant Clarabelle Cow through it. He could hear her protesting all the way through the portal, even when she finally reappeared in her own world her complaints were still audible. Barbossa, completely disregarding her, slammed the door shut. He shook his head and made his way to his quarters, where he picked up a bottle of the strongest rum he had and took an almighty swig of it.

Suddenly, Jack Sparrow seemed unspeakably normal.

**E **N _d_

A/N: This is the longest one I've written thus far, isn't it? The pure insanity of the pairing demanded a long explanation, don't you think? Let me know what y'all thought about this one. I've never written Barbossa before, so I'm interested to know how in-charecter he was.

I'm going to have to stop taking suggestions soon, I fear. I'm getting so many! Perhaps I just keep this thing going until I run out of crack pairings to write. That could take a while...

In other news, I really wish my school had thought about how frickin' impossible it is to find a one-piece bathing suit in a size smaller than a 10, that doesn't have the sides cut out, that isn't for pro swimmers and therefore around 70 dollars, before they made their strict guidelines for bathings suits for the senior retreats. It took all day to find one bathing suit. Grrrrr!!


	5. Harbor

**A/N: I'm home sick. Again. I get sick often, just to let those of you who aren't farmiliar with me know. I'm almost better, I think. I should be back at school tomorrow, by any rate. So, since I'm bedridden and feel like doing nothing but laying around and watching classic Disney movies (I just finished Mulan, I think Beauty and the Beast is next, or perhaps Peter Pan) that's exactly what I'm doing. So here's the promised DemyxNamine. I figured since I just finished three chapters worth of utter nonsence and insanity, I'd add a little bit of almost-normal to stir things up a bit.**

Disclaimer: Since I can think of no way to make this entertaining, let's just go with no.

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**C.R.A.CK.'d**

_Five_

_--/\--/\--Harbor--/\--/\--_

_--/\--Demyx Naminé--/\--_

She felt like a ship lost in a storm. Not even a ship; more like a rowboat. A rowboat being tossed about in a hurricane at sea. No oars with which to row herself to safety, either. It was even worse than just being in a storm-she was in an unending, tortuous, yet non-fatal storm. A normal storm would eventually swamp a tiny rowboat and then it would be over-but this was inescapable.

They wouldn't kill her-they couldn't. She was too valuable. She hadn't even that method of escape. The most she could hope for was a lifetime of abuse before finally fading away. It was no way to exist-or not exist; living constantly in fear of her next captor. Or her current one, for that matter.

They weren't all so terrible; at least relevantly. Some just ignored her. But being ignored was better than being abused.

She awoke early one morning to the sounds of her captors switching out guards. She had been dreaming that she was drowning, but, of course, the waves never completely crushed her; never enveloped her in death's merciful embrace.

She feigned sleep as she heard the next guard enter. As long as she was asleep, they had no reason to hurt her. She heard soft humming, and breathed a sigh of relief. Demyx. He never hurt her. He was about as close to kind as she ever got. This was mostly, she figured, because he was too much of a dork to know how to be cruel.

Smiling, Naminé rolled over and fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

--/\--/\--/\--

"Would you stop crying?! God, you're such a baby!" Naminé cringed at Larxene's aggravated shrieks. She held back her tears, though, knowing they would only further infuriate the cruel woman.

Naminé heard whistling growing louder and louder from the other side of her door, followed by a knock.

Most people would have opened the door or at least said, "Come in"; Larxene chose to shout "It's about frickin' time!" albeit in more colorful terms.

Demyx sheepishly entered the room, a forced smile on his face as he looked at Larxene. It gave Naminé some solace to know that she wasn't the only one who was absolutely petrified of Larxene. Even the most stalwart of the Organization was afraid of her temper.

When the sadist finally left, Demyx frowned at Naminé, who was wiping tears from her eyes. "Hey, what's wrong?"

And at that she broke down. No one _ever _asked her what was wrong; not seriously. No one _ever _actually _cared_ enough to find out what paining her.

"I feel like everything's spinning!" Naminé sobbed, as Demyx's face revealed his confusion and utter lack of experience dealing with emotional teenage girls. "Everything's spinning so much that it gets to the point that I don't know which way is up anymore!"

Demyx reached out a hesitant hand and patted her back. "Um…there, there?" Demyx uttered in an attempt at comfort.

"I know up is supposed to be in a general that way direction," Naminé waved a slim finger toward the ceiling. "But when I look up I feel like I'm looking down. But since up is down, you'd think down would be up; but when I look down I feel like I'm looking sideways! But before I can see what direction sideways really is, everything is spinning again and then I have to start all over again!"

Demyx groaned. He remembered having a little sister when he was a somebody who used to cry all the time. But then his mother was always the one to comfort her. He used to hide in his room and practice his sitar so he would have an excuse not to deal with her woes and worries.

Then the pale girl had done something even more unexpected: she had thrown her thin arms around Demyx's torso and clung tightly to him, sobbing even harder. Unsure of what else to do, he returned the embrace, doing the only thing he knew to comfort her-he listened.

Naminé's sobs finally quieted, the storm of emotion finally subsiding into soft whimpers. For this short time she had found safe harbor in the storm that was her life.

She was in calm waters.

--_fini_--

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A/N: Thanks by the way to all the kind people who've reviewed, favorited, alerted, or made suggestions for this story. Y'all rock!!


	6. Size

**A/N: Oh yes, I am finally back, after an extremely busy final year of high school, and a summer in which I have tried to avoid doing nothing but sit at my computer, and despite a growing obsession with Doctor Who--which will mean some DW fics but will not mean that I will stop writing for KH, because I know I can't do that, I return to this fic after much to long an absense to bring you another chapter which promises to break you brain.**

**Disclaimer: This whole should be enough of a reason to tell y'all that you don't WANT me to own it.**

**C.R.A.C.K.'d**

_Six_

**SIZE DOES MATTER **

_or, how to flirt with a fairy_

**AXEL **x _tinkerbell_

_(for Quartermass)_

There's something sickeningly happy and hopeful about this world. Neverland, well, that's certainly a fitting name, because Axel's sure he Never wants to visit this Land again (of course, that's what he said last time, and yet here he is). It makes him wish Roxas was still around, because they used to have a field day making fun of this place. All mermaids and fluffy clouds and little boys flying around talking about how they'd never grow up; it begged for a rampage of disaster.

And the jungles. Did he mention the jungles? He hated them. Especially given that long cloaks weren't exactly suited for tramping through jungles.

And thus the grumbling continued through Axel's mind as he fought his way through vines and branches, so sick of pulling twigs out his hair that he could hardly remember why he'd been sent to this world anyway. He swiped a low-hanging vine out of his way and then halted, having heard something like a squeak after moving the vine.

That was when the acorn hit him, square in the eye. "Yowch!" Holding one hand over the offended eye, he summoned his weapon with the other, fully intending to barbecue whatever stupid squirrel had attacked him.

A squirrel was certainly not the adversary that was now proceeding to zoom up to him and begin shaking a tiny, glowing fist at his face, and, as best he could tell, berating him for knocking her off of the vine she'd been sitting on.

A fairy. A fairy had beaned him with an acorn. Yup. Worst world ever.

"Sorry, sorry," he apologized testily, raising an eyebrow at the peeved pixie. The little glowing thing glared at him, turning away her head with something of sparkling, silent, "Hmph!"

Axel found that kind of sexy.

"No, really, I am," he said again, this time actually attempting to sound it. Sure, it wasn't like he could actually date a creature six inches tall, but he could at least flirt with her. Didn't want to get out of practice for when he actually had a heart to give to a girl.

The fairy looked back at him, seemingly considering his words. After a moment of internal deliberation, she shrugged and held out a miniscule hand. In return Axel held out a finger for her to shake.

"So," he began, giving her the most mischievous debonair smile he could summon, "You know you're actually pretty hot." Axel internally winced. That was awful. He _was _out of practice. Very out of practice.

The fairy still seemed pleased. She tossed her ponytail playfully and then nodded at him, as if to say _You don't look so bad, yourself._

"You know," Axel began again, trying to think of something that didn't sound completely corny. "You've got a lot of spunk for something so tiny." No, not much better. "You'd be just my type of girl if only you were a little taller." The fairy looked initially surprised, but quickly hid it as she replied with a flirty smile. "No helping that, though." Axel mumbled, more as an afterthought than anything else, but the pixie replied to it with an understanding nod. _Yeah, guess there isn't._

Axel's posture suddenly perked. Maybe there was. If he could---yes! The debonair smile returned. "You just wait right here, I'll be right back."

And with a wink he disappeared into a portal.

One quick trip to Wonderland later and he was back, holding a bottle in each hand, one with "Drink this" on its label, the other with "Eat this" scrawled on the bottle.

The fairy quirked her eyebrows at him. Axel grinned and held up the two bottles.

"So," he took a quick sip of one of the bottles and immediately shrunk until he was only a few inches tall, and then poured some of the other bottle's contents into his mouth and resumed his normal height. "Your size or mine?"

**E**_n __**D**_

**A/N: Short, yes, but sufficient, I'd say. Didn't want to overdo it. More is on the way, I promise. I have to go to Driving School this next week (despite the fact I've already got my licence...) and so I'll probably do a lot of scribbling stories in my notebook.**


	7. Sandman

**A/N: I suck at updating this thing, don't I? I'm going to work on that, I promise. **I'm going to try to update at least once a month. Hopefully twice a month. So, last chapter was total brain-busting insanity, so this one is a little less high on the bat-crap-insane-o-meter. I think I'll try to update this at least twice a month, one update being sort-of-almost normal, and then one update that is total INSANITY. So this one isn't quite what I originally had in mind, but it is quite long, and I quite like it.

_Disclaimer: Hey, one chapter every 9 months, one KH game every 9 years. Maybe I **do** work for Tetsuya Nomura._

**C.R.A.C.K.'d**

_Seven_

_.'.'.'.S.a'n.d'm.a'n. .'.'.'._

_.'.Demyx/Kairi.'._

Because staring at the wall is _exactly_ what she'd wanted to do today.

And yesterday.

And the day before that.

But honestly, what _else_ was she going to do?

Kairi sighed and gently banged her head against the bars of her prison. How long was it going to take Sora to reach her? Would he _ever_ reach her? Did he even know where she was? Would she even still be alive when he got here?

She just had to stay alert; maybe there was some way to get out of this cage she hadn't seen yet. Maybe when they brought her food, she could…

Attack them with her fork?

Kairi grinned ruefully at the inside of her eyelids. That would be kind of funny…

Kairi jerked her head upward and shook it a little. No. Have to stay alert. Awake. Focused…

She jerked her head again and shook it more violently. She couldn't fall asleep in this place. She didn't want to. And even when she'd _tried_ to get some sleep she'd found herself too nervous. What if they were waiting for her to fall asleep?

"Are you okay?"

Kairi's head jerked up for the third time and she found herself staring through the bars at who she assumed was another one of her captors. He had the same black coat as the rest of them. To her surprise though, he actually smiled at her.

Kairi backed away from the bars. "Who are you? What's going on here?" she demanded. "What do you want with me?" Through slightly-blurred eyes she examined her captor. He seemed different than the others. He had wide blue eyes and a spiky mullet, and the shoulders of his coat didn't seem to fit quite right.

His smile faded and he blinked at her. "No need to be so demanding." His lopsided smile returned. "It's not like I can answer, anyway. They don't tell me anything."

Kairi raised an eyebrow. "Not very important around here, are you?"

The man's smile slid off his face to be replaced with an indignant pout.

"Not very important?! I'll have you know that _I_, Demyx, am Number _9_ around here!"

"Number 9 still doesn't sound very high-ranking to me."

The pout grew. "It _is_ somewhat high-ranking around here! Underneath me I've got," he pulled up a hand and ticked off one finger. "Luxord, and…well, he's dead, and then, well, she's dead too, and well hey! Roxas isn't dead! But he's kinda not on our side anymore." The man stared at his solitary upheld pointer finger. "So there's just Luxord still below me on the chain of command."

Kairi couldn't withhold a smile. "Like I said, you're not very important around here, are you?"

The man dropped his hand and shrugged, pouting. "I guess not."

A giggle slipped through Kairi's lips. This guy was…kooky. "You're weird," she informed him.

He nodded. "I get that a lot."

Kairi giggled again, bemused, then yawned. Hurry up, Sora.

"You look tired."

Kairi's amused smile turned into a tired frown. "That's because I haven't slept in a few days."

The man, Demyx, Kairi finally registered, gave her a concerned frown. "A few days?! Why not?"

Kairi rolled her eyes. "Because I have to figure out how I'm going to escape from you people."

Demyx blinked at her. "You still need sleep."

Kairi shook her head, her knees starting to give out from standing up for so long, and she slid down the bars, and as she hit the ground she turned around to lean against the wall beneath the bars.

"You _really _need sleep."

"No I don't."

There was silence from behind her for a few minutes and Kairi began to think that Demyx had left. However, when she turned her head to peer through the bars, he was still standing there, blue eyes narrowed in thought, as he pensively ran his fingers through his mullet.

"What?" She croaked, her vision still strained and blurry from lack of sleep.

"I never introduced myself, did I?" Kairi shook her head lethargically. "Oh. Well, I'm Demyx." Kairi quirked an eyebrow at the hand sticking through the bar of her prison. Demyx frowned at her. "This is the part where you're supposed to shake my hand and say, 'Hi, I'm Naminé.'."

"Naminé?"

"…Oh, whoops. That's the other one."

"Other one?"

"Let me try this again. You'd shake my hand and say, 'Hi, I'm Kairi.'…That's you, right?"

"…You're _really_ weird."

Kairi turned her attention back to the opposite wall, where Pluto was dozing in the corner.

Her ears perked at the sound of gentle twanging behind her, and as she looked back at Demyx she saw that he was suddenly holding a large guitar-like instrument. On it he was a strumming out a soothing melody, light, and warm, and Kairi felt her eyelids drooping.

"Stop that," she murmured, trying in vain to keep her eyes open.

"No way, kiddo. I can't imagine going a few days without sleep. Can't be good for your health."

Kairi was going to protest, but found that the majority of her focus was going to her failing attempts to keep her eyes open. "Like the music. 's pretty." She finally murmured, her head starting to loll onto her shoulder.

"Thanks. I wrote it."

Kairi merely hummed in reply as her tired mind succumbed to the rising darkness. Peace, soothing, peaceful oblivion, wavering to that gentle melody.

.'.'.'.

There are times, when the nightmares of crawling, twitching, inky blackness and oscillating silver dragons and the worries she feels about the two brave boys who fight them plague her, and the exhaustion her body feels cannot match the busy turmoil in mind, she finds herself staring at the dark ceiling as the minutes tick past on the clock on her bedside table.

And it is most often not the thoughts of her spiky-haired hero that finally lull her to sleep.

It is the nights when she is most tired and most desperately in need of sleep that finally a corner of her mind opens up, and from that isolated corner flows gentle waves of otherworldly music. And she finds herself almost in a trance as the exotic twanging sooths her, hypnotizes her, and as her mind finally settles, she can see blue eyes, and thinks that the beauty of her Sandman's talent with music almost made up for the silliness of his hair…

.'.end.'.

A/N: I love Demyx. He's such a dweeb. Let me know what you think!


	8. Boredom

A/N: I LIVE! And I'M SORRY! Real life steps in and kicks my butt sometimes. Anyway, this particularly cracky couple is courtesy of the amazing **kikofreako**, who won my contest a while (coughforeveragocough) ago, and this is one of her prizes. May I just say that I had a bit of trouble with this one, and that I'm still not thrilled with where it ended up, but the ending is open for interpretation, because the commercial that happened to come on tv when I was brainstorming invaded the plot. **Please let the centering work, ff, please!** Ahem. (also, I'm too tired to edit right now. So it's probably riddled with mistakes. Feel free to point them out.) **Pretend the timeline is canon compatible.**

**C.R.A.C.K.'.d**

_Eight_

**B****o****r****e****d****o****m**

CidX**larxene**

_(for kikofreako)_

Even Larxene realizes that people are not perfect, and therefore has decided that everyone has a certain amount of stupidity which they are permitted to use from time to time in their otherwise-intelligent life.

Some people, like Demyx, use up their daily allowance of stupid by breakfast; other people, like Lexeaus, probably hadn't cashed in his stupid points in years. Larxene was of the opinion that these few moments of stupidity were to be used sparingly and only when all other senses of intelligence failed. However, if a person was to go a great deal of time without using any of their allowed stupid moments, the points could add up, and they would be permitted to do one enormous, ridiculous, completely unreasonable, unexplainable, irrational, insane thing to make up for all their good behavior.

This was hers.

**X****x**xxxX

There is one force in the universe capable of bringing the most unlikely of persons together: boredom. Cid was the only member of the Restoration Committee who was not allowed out to help with the rebuilding ("Oh, you can come, as long as you leave the cigarettes at home.") and found himself quite busy with busywork and boredom. Frequently he would wander about the town just to take it all in and escape from the cranky old wizard with whom he was forced to share a workspace.

He was just wondering through the town when a noise in a back alley caught his attention. He doubled back at the sound of a crash, wanting to make sure no more rascally kids were causing trouble. When he looked down the alleyway he saw a tall blonde woman in a black coat cleaning garbage off of herself and angrily muttering what sounded like death threats to the tipped-over garbage can lying on the ground beside her.

Cid watched her, absently twirling the cigarette lodged in between his lips. Finally the blonde woman looked up and glared at him.

"Can I _help_ you?" she snapped, placing her hands on rather bony hips.

Apparently he'd caught her in a bad mood.

While he could have no way of knowing that Larxene was always in a bad mood, the truth of it was that her mood was even more sour today than usual. She detested recon; she was a deadly killer and capable of so much more than this. Still, it was better than babysitting the new kids. Honestly, were they completely incompetent?

Cid smirked. "Well, darlin' I can think of several things you could do for me."

She raised an eyebrow. "Not even if we were the last human beings in the universe, Grandpa." She trotted to the end of the alleyway and with a single hand motion, shoved him to the ground.

It was meant to be.

She didn't seem like the best news, so he followed her around to make sure she didn't cause any trouble. After about two hours she paused in the middle of the street leading to a main section of town. He watched her place her hands on her hips and sigh, her shoulders shrugging dramatically. Finally she spun around to give him a tiredly disdainful look, like talking to him was a last resort.

"I'm starving. Where's a restaurant around here that's least likely to give me rabies?"

Cid contemplated this woman's request. He was almost certain she was trouble, but if she was asking directions, then perhaps she couldn't be that bad. Still, probably best not to let her out of his sight (not that keeping her in his sight caused any pain to the eyes.)

"If I show you, you have to eat lunch with me, darlin'," he shouted. The woman quirked an exquisitely plucked eyebrow. She stared at him in silence for a few more moments, probably weighing her options. Either that, or she was hoping her acidic stare might frighten him into retracting his demand.

"Yeah, alright," she said casually. She waltzed over to him and when she arrived fixed him with a disgruntled stare. "But you're gonna pay, sit across a long table from me, and if you bug me I'll make you wish you'd died of lung cancer years ago. Which reminds me," she reached out and yanked the cigarette out of his mouth, "No smoking around me. Even if I'm gonna fade eventually I'd prefer it _not_ to be because of second-hand smoke." She turned and started walking. "Now, there's nothing back that way, so I'm assuming we're going this way."

Cid stared after her, not quite sure what to make of her or her intentions. He took a toothpick out of his pocket and clamped it in his teeth. He looked up at the sky.

"You know, when I asked you for a hot tall blonde girl, this wasn't what I had in mind."

**X****x**xxxX

What Larxene would have liked more than anything would have been to tell the dirty old man to shove it and leave her the choice expletive alone. However, she needed food, and more than that, she needed intel about the city, and it seemed to her that the old man might be useful in procuring it.

As she discovered, the old man was not that bad to talk to. Cid was a bit like Xigbar in the respect that he had no idea that he was really a hundred years old, and whose vocabulary was a mix of that of a fifteen-year-old punk and that of a fifty-year-old sailor. Thankfully, unlike Xigbar, he did not seem to be under the delusion that he was a 21 year old surfer dude.

It was almost nice to talk to him. It was certainly a vast change from what she was used to. All the men in the Organization had long since given up any serious attempt at wooing her and had settled for making sexual remarks just to annoy her. Cid was at least showing _some_ manners.

From the sound of it, he was as annoyed by his co-workers as she was by hers. Leon sounded a bit like Zexion; always brooding; smart, capable, but silent and not particularly prone to interaction with any other living being. Yuffie seemed to be the Demyx of their committee; the one who always ended up in the way. She certainly sounded as hyper as he did. Put them together and they'd probably demolish a building, if Yuffie didn't kill Demyx first. Maybe that maniac could teach him a thing or two about nerves.

Aerith sounded like the only sane one, but Cid also made her out to be so perfectly angelically sweet that Larxene had to fight the urge to vomit. Just like Roxas, then. Too good for their own good.

When the conversation took a turn towards her own employment, Larxene found that she actually wanted to talk, even if she knew she had to be careful with what she said. But she never had anyone to complain to, and this man didn't seem to be going anywhere.

"At least you've got some of your own species around to talk to. I'm the only woman where I work. Well, there's Xion, but she never says anything. So it's mostly just me and twelve men. Well," she looked off to the side, her perpetually annoyed expression complemented by something thoughtful, "Roxas is like, twelve, so eleven men and one boy._ Well,_" she smirked, "Ten men, one boy and Marluxia."

The rest of the surprisingly good lunch was filled mostly with conversation about annoying co-workers, and when it drew to a close, Larxene had decided that she actually did not mind this. Cid seemed interested in her, and she was certainly keen to keep him spewing information about this city as well as its security system, and she had found it surprisingly easy to complain about her job without compromising secrecy.

And somewhere along the way, she'd actually agreed to have lunch with him again.

**X****x**xxxX

Larxene sent word back to the Organization that she'd found a steady source of good information about the town and its complex and potentially problematic defense system, and that she would need more time to pump her source for intel.

Apparently preparations on Castle Oblivion were not going as well as had been hoped for, so she had a week in which to finish her mission before they needed her back. It was plenty of time. Each day she and Cid met for lunch, and each day, after venting about whatever stupid thing Axel had done to frustrate her that morning, he would let off steam and information.

Larxene couldn't help but wonder how she might feel about these lunches if she still had a heart and emotions. This man was old enough to be her father; would she have perhaps come to see him as such a figure? As it was, she didn't, but neither did she find him altogether unpleasant. He was hardly a top-model human being, but compared to what she was used to putting up with, he was practically a prince.

It was her final day in Hollow Bastion, and Larxene actually felt the ghost of sadness at leaving it. No more ranting sessions with Cid. Who was going to be her soundboard?

She took a look around the square where the small café where they'd been eating lunch was located. "I'm actually gonna miss this place."

"You leavin?"

She nodded. "Work relocation. I was never supposed to be here very long at all."

"Well, too bad. It's been nice having you."

Larxene merely hummed in reply.

"Not lookin' to do something crazy before you go, are you?" He took a bottle of small blue pills out of his pocket and gave it a shake. "I got me a prescription!"

Larxene merely stared. Because he was serious. Dead serious.

And if that wasn't scary enough, Larxene's first thought was that she wouldn't have to feel regret, or humiliation, or guilt unless she wanted to. Larxene tried to think of the last time she had done something reckless, stupid, impulsive, or potentially detrimental to her reputation. She couldn't think of anything.

**X****x**xxxX

Larxene flexed the hand not holding her book, preparing to summon her knives as her head was engulfed in a cloud of the most nauseating cologne ever concocted. She didn't even have to look up to know that Axel had just sat down on the couch beside her.

"Go away."

"Well, look who's in a good mood today," he drawled. "I'm not here to annoy, I just wanted to ask if you'd had your coat cleaned lately, because it looks particularly good on you today." Larxene continued to ignore him, hoping that he'd eventually get bored and leave. "You what else would look good on you?" Larxene turned and fixed Axel's self-confident smirk with a blank stare. His smirk turned into a mischievous grin. "Me."

Larxene raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, but I don't wear accessories that belong on men."

Axel laughed. "Oh, Sparxene, how are you ever gonna get a man with that kind of attitude? When was the last time you got laid, anyway?"

Larxene smirked, knowing that even though Axel would wonder for the rest of his days whether or not she was telling the truth, he was never going to inquire about her personal life ever again.

"A couple days ago. I met this cool old guy. I'd never been with a man who needed Viagra before."

Oh yes, Larxene plans her stupid points usage with incredible care.

**X****x**xxxXend** X****x**xxxX

* * *

A.N: I was brainstorming and a commercial for Cialis came on tv. After that, the idea would not leave my head. It just wouldn't. That last scene came into my mind, and the thought of Axel's face was too priceless. **"Did Larxene _really...?" _**You decide. I'd rather not think about it.


End file.
